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As well as to Litoxcutie who left a super sweet comment that made me smile like a creeper~ Thank you so much luv~

And as always, to my lovely readers who have brought my fiction up to 4k view~ I seriously love you guys to the moon and back~ It isn't just about numbers, you guys have seriously stayed with me and my weird uploading patterns and I seriously wouldn't be anywhere without you!

So please enjoy! This is for you guys

S E V E N T E E N

E U P H E M I S M: the substitution of a mild, indirect, or vague expression to avoid the truth (see: Aaemi's secret)

Jungkook strode in looking like a freaking angel. My freaking angel. He stormed inside, his figure wrapped in the dark murky anger of his blazing Alpha Current, his smoky eyes immediately locking onto mine. Relief flooded though me with just his presence, his comforting familiar scent of cinnamon and the warmth of my marks that was cascading up my arm..

“Jungkook,” my voice sounded small, worn out. He examined me quickly, his eyes skimming over my body, taking in the chains and the blood splattered everywhere. Jungkook's eyes lit, concentrated fury turning them a glowing amber as he moved so fast that all I could catch was the dark blur of his clothes. One second he was in front if me, the next he'd sunk a fist into Cade's face so hard that old bastard stumbled back several meters, dropping Gabriel's head with a sickening 'thump'.

My eyes zeroed in, back on the mutilated, ripped body part and I couldn't help the strangled noise that bubbled up from my throat. Jungkook's eyes darted from me to the head, not understanding the situation completely but shifted to block my view.

“Oh god,” I clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle my words, “Oh god, oh god, oh god.” Jungkook's Alpha Current flared brightly once again, blanketing me in what I could only describe as saturated comfort. It flowed off Jungkook in waves, drowning me in the best possible way.

“Oh,” Cade finally recovers, pushing himself into a standing position and wiping the blood from his mouth only to have is smear across his cheek. Gabriel's blood. I need to vomit. “You must be the mate.” His voice is colored with contempt.

Jungkook growls, low and threateningly, “I will tear you into pieces, old-timer.” He promises, “Pieces.”

Cade chuckles, “Don't bother, pup. You have no idea the forces you are dealing with. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. What that manipulative has gotten you into.” I bite down onto my lip until I can taste blood.

“Don't. Call. Her. That.” Jungkook's voice drips with barely contained rage.

“She's just like her farther, you know,” Cade straightens up, adjusting the necklace around his neck, “Take my advice. Don't bother protecting someone like her, you don't know half the story.”

“I know enough,” Jungkook grits out. His incisors have already elongated, they pierce the skin of his lips but he doesn't seem to notice.

Cade laughs so hard, he bends over and clutches his stomach. Wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye before he turns towards the door of the holding cell. When he turns around to address us, his smile has disappeared, “You don't know anything. Do you really think you could love her if she told you the truth?”

He steps out the door, shutting it quietly behind him. Anti-climatic, but I wasn't complaining. Nor did have time to mull over why the hell he was leaving us alone, free to escape, because within the three minute time of Jungkook's entrance I'd managed to start sobbing.

Soft, soul-racking, sobs that shake me spasmodically sending stinging pain from broken bones prickling though my body, blur my vision with tears that refuse to spill and the cloudy haze of the wolfsbane still circulating though my body. Every single part of my existence hurts, I feel like a dirty mess of broken and bloodied. Shutting my eyes, I press my fists over them and in what I hope are calming breaths.

“Aaemi,” Jungkook breathes, his voice coming from the back of his throat, all of the previous anger drained. His arms slip around me, loose enough to avoid irritating any of the other injuries I'm sure I've sustained, but tight enough for me to fell the warmth of our mate bond. To feel the security being around him always gave me.

My body begins to absorb the heat of his Alpha Current, of his proximity. “. Aaemi.” He exhales raggedly as he pulls away just slightly to look me in the eyes. The amber of his wolf's eyes has faded away, back to the cool dark orbs that search my eyes with so much worry and relief, I want to start crying again.

I open my mouth, but I can't say anything. Jungkook reaches behind me for the chains around my wrists. With on quick movement of his fingers, he snaps the shackles off me then hurls them away so hard they skitter across the hard cement ground loudly. He scoops me up in his arms gently, one under my knees and the other around the small of my back, carrying me carefully like he's afraid I'll break. I'm afraid I'll break. I just squirm closer, wanting proximity and not caring about the stupid consequences that I'd set up for myself.

Jungkook swears under his breath, probably hearing some imminent danger that I just can't pick up.

“It's okay,” he murmurs, already moving towards the opening he blew into the wall, “It's fine. I'm here. Jesus, please stop crying.”

Great. I'm crying again. I press my face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, cursing myself for appearing so vulnerable but actually give a . Tears finally spill onto my cheeks, dampening the collar of his shirt but he doesn't seem to care. I feel the wind through my hair as Jungkook speeds up. I want to say something, 'thanks' seemed appropriate, but the second my mouth opened I could only choke out a loud sob. So I clamped lips together.

Gabriel's face flashes though my memory again, then his disembodied head that was now laying in that cell. He'd never get a proper burial. Gabriel had parents, a sixteen year old sister. My mouth fell open, “Stop. We have to-” A horrific, high pitch crack in my voice erupted from my vocal chords and I resumed sobbing.

His arms tighten around me, pressing me closer to him.

“Almost there, love,” Jungkook promises, “Don't cry. They will never hurt you again.” I don't respond, my eyes are already fluttering closed. The waves of pain, confusion, horror and just plain exhaustion bite at my consciousness.

Jungkook picks up his pace, stringing together what I can only guess are curse words in a language I don't understand. “Can you hear me, love? I will never-”

And the impending darkness finally, thankfully swallows me up and I'm allowed to ascend graceful into unconsciousness.

…

Needless to say, this time I woke up feeling significantly better than the last time. For one thing, I was on a mattress, cushioned in a pillow of warmth and covered by a blanket that I can only describe as saturated comfort. My wolf hummed in content. I slept on my back, my head tilted up to stare at a slow moving ceiling fan.

My body was no longer screaming in pain. In fact, I felt good. My enhanced senses were back, and I could feel the strength in my arms in legs that had returned. Which must have meant, the wolfsbane was out of my system.

Blinking several times to push away sleep, I turned my head in the direction of where Jungkook slept beside. It was no surprise to me of our current sleeping positions; whenever he was nearby, conscious or not, my wolf always buzzed with the warmth of our proximity and our strong mate bond. Both of my legs laid in between his and he was practically curled into my side, his body creating a wall of creamy skin, lanky muscle, and cinnamon.

People say that you're supposed to look younger when you sleep, but Jungkook just looked-like, well like Jungkook. Calm, his face clean of emotion and gorgeous.

Jungkook's dark hair was brushed out like it usually was and fell easily over one of his eyes, the addition of the long shadows from his sooty eyelashes, made him look unearthly beautiful.

That 'blanket of saturated comfort' came his strongly lit Alpha Current that swirled around us, enclosing us in a way that seemed infinitesimal intimate. I glanced down and noticed that we slept on top of the comforter, the temperature of the room being to hot for the need of a cover. I also noticed suddenly, that Jungkook was shirtless.

And so was I.

My eyes, that had been slowly drooping, snapped open at a crazy speed and I almost screamed in surprise. The only thing that covered my chest was my strap-y black bra. I in a breath, almost loud enough for it to be a gasp, but received a little comfort from realizing it was the same bra I'd been wearing since Oregon. I shut my eyes. Jungkook, that sneaky bastard. I was going to castrate him.

I opened my eyes, shaking my head slightly as I begin to gently pull myself out of his embrace. Wiggling my legs slowly away from his, then shimmying off the bed as quietly as possible.

Not having any clue where I was, one look around the room identified the place as a hotel suite; small but spacious. I walked over to one of the couches where I noticed my duffel bag was laying, still zipped shut.

Needing a minute to myself before I even attempted to wake Jungkook up and started thinking about everything that just happened, I reached inside my bags and pulled out a fresh change of clothes as well as my toiletries. Locating a bathroom, I slipped inside, caught one look at myself in the mirror and swore so loudly and colorfully in Mandarin people in Xi'an, China probably heard me and blushed.

Great. My 'minute' was going to be hours long.

My skin looked terrible, sickly and grayish, my hair was piled up into what had to be the world's sloppiest top knot. Mascara and eyeliner was smeared all over my cheekbones, making the bags under my eyes look unrealistic and raccoon-like. Dried blood caked already healed cuts up and down my arms, legs and torso. The only good thing was that all of my injuries, even the broken ribs and massive bruises were gone, leaving clean and unblemished skin underneath a thin layer of sweat and blood.

Sighing as I reach into my bag, I pull out a wide-toothed comb and patiently brush the tangles in my hair out. Dropping the comb into the sink with a clatter, I shuck all my clothes off and start the shower on it's highest heat setting.

Thankfully, for my mental well-being, the water heats up quickly and I step into a steaming shower in seconds. The seconds the scalding water hits my skin, it turns murky red, cleaning away the crusted blood, but then swirls down the drain rapidly and leaves behind my newly healed skin and a small assortment of scars that will fade within the week.

I rub vigorously at my skin, scalp, and hair for the first twenty minutes but then